


Chocolate Chip Pancakes

by Carmenlire



Series: Flufftober [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Breakfast, Fluff, Hangover, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:26:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: Hangover forgotten, Magnus barely registers that he speaks aloud as he murmurs, “Who are you?”He doesn’t give his friends a chance to ask questions as he rises to his feet. Adonis and Co. have just been seated when Magnus sidles up to their table.“Hello,” He says, pleased when his voice doesn’t betray just how ghastly he was feeling just moments ago. “Who might you be, darling? I don’t believe that we’ve been formally introduced.”





	Chocolate Chip Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> So there's a flufftober prompt list going around and I thought that I'd try to complete it! Every day, the goal is to write something, even if it's short, on the prompt!! Happy Reading :)
> 
> Prompt: Breakfast

Hungover and pissed off with it, Magnus grumbles at the tinkling of the bell overhead as he opens the door to his favorite diner. It’s mid morning and Ragnor had woken him up less than an hour ago by pouring a glass of ice water over his head.

When he’d jolted upright, sputtering and disoriented, Ragnor had given him his best blank look.

“I’m hungry and it’s your turn to buy pancakes,” he’d said, as if this was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Magnus had glared daggers at the back of his head but after flopping back down onto his bed, he’d reluctantly rolled out and stumbled to the bathroom. He’d gotten ready in record time, throwing on a university hoodie and pair of leggings, shoving his feet into a pair of tennis shoes and he’d followed as Ragnor had led them from their dorm to the corner diner across from campus. 

It was open twenty four hours a day and catered to college students who lived on greasy burgers and somehow _unhealthy_ salads. It had the best hangover breakfast Magnus had ever eaten and it was tradition to hit it up after a night out.

Magnus and Ragnor are the last ones to the table. Cat and Raphael are already at their regular booth in the back, pouring over the menu as though they don’t come here three times a week.

Ragnor sits next to Raphael, leaving Magnus to take the space next to Catarina. He doesn’t open his menu, just lays his head on crossed forearms and focuses on his breathing.

Fuck, he must’ve drank tequila last night. That’s the only liquor that ever leaves him so miserable the next day.

“I’m dying,” Magnus declares, voice muffled as he’s still resting against the table. He lets out a pathetic whimper for effect. Cat absently reaches over and pats him on the shoulder.

“With how much you drank last night, I’m surprised Ragnor was even able to wake you. Raphael and I were taking bets on whether or not you’d show this morning.”

Magnus looks up and sees Raphael staring at him dispassionately. “Do you know you recite limericks when you’re particularly wasted,” he asks. “I know you’re a lit major, but that’s too much even for you, Bane.”

Glaring, Magnus replies, “It’s not my fault that I have a superior intellect even when I’m blacked out. You should be so lucky.”

“Boys, boys,” Ragnor’s voice breaks through as he turns the page of his menu to the burger section. “It’s too early for this and I left out the best part of Magnus’s hungover morning.”

Cat looks intrigue as she leans towards him, resting her chin in a hand. “Do tell.”

Settling back in his seat, Ragnor gives Magnus a once over. “Magnus has admitted that he’s blacked out and you know what that means.” The three of them share a look that Magnus has seen a few too many times.

Oh, God.

“What did I do,” he asks the table, resigned to hear about last night’s exploits. That was part of the reason these breakfasts were tradition. It wasn’t just that the campus diner had greasy bacon and pancakes that could soak up remnants of alcohol like the most effective hangover cure. They had all been where Magnus is sitting now, listening in dread as the others told of the previous night’s exploits.

Admittedly, Magnus is in the hot seat a little more than the others.

“Between shot eleven and thirteen, you entered your dancing phase. Christ, we couldn’t get you off the dance floor--” 

That damned bell above the door chimes as it opens and Magnus doesn’t hear whatever gap Raphael was going to fill in his murky memory from last night. Instead, he looks over at the door and his heart trips, his breath stutters, as the most stunning man Magnus has ever seen walks in, accompanied by a few other people.

He’s tall, classically handsome and adorably rumpled. He’s wearing a ragged rugby sweatshirt and sweatpants that hit just under the knee with those athletic sandals the jocks tend to favor. He looks sleepy yet hot enough to burn, with that stubble darkening a delicious jaw line.

Hangover forgotten, Magnus barely registers that he speaks aloud as he murmurs, “Who are you?”

He doesn’t give his friends a chance to ask questions as he rises to his feet. Adonis and Co. have just been seated when Magnus sidles up to their table.

“Hello,” he says, pleased when his voice doesn’t betray just how ghastly he was feeling just moments ago. “Who might you be, darling? I don’t believe that we’ve been formally introduced.”

The man looks up at him, startled at the sudden stranger, before the other two table mates look up and raise incredulous eyebrows.

Magnus ignores them, instead focusing on the god sitting in front of him. Magnus barely resists the urge to lick his lips. Who knew that Columbia was hiding such goods around campus?

He’s delighted as heat climbs up the man’s neck but he’s impressed when his voice is smooth and achingly dry. “I’m Alec,” he says, holding out a hand.

Magnus raises a brow at the tone. He makes it sound like Magnus should just _know_ who he is. Inwardly, Magnus sighs. Please don’t let Alec be an insufferable bastard.

“Alec,” Magnus repeats, taking his hand. It’s a piss poor excuse for a handshake. Instead, Magnus just holds his hand, feeling callouses against his palm. He represses a shiver. “I’m Magnus.” He says, smiling invitingly.

“I know,” Alec says. He looks at Magnus, the bare edgings of a smirk curling his lips.

“Oh? You’ve caught me at a disadvantage, darling.” Magnus’s gaze darts between gorgeous hazel eyes and full lips and he’s insanely curious. He tries desperately to remember any time that they may have ran into each other but he's coming up infuriatingly blank. What does Alec know that he doesn’t?

His attention is even more rattled when he feels Alec’s thumb start sweeping along his thumb. Slow strokes that set every nerve ending firing.

“You told me tequila was your worst drink,” Alec says. “But that didn’t stop you from dancing with me until Pandemonium closed.”

Magnus’s breath catches. _Damn him_ , one of these days he might just have to listen to his friends before checking out.

“We’ve met? Yesterday,” Magnus hesitantly offers, thinking of his damned hangover that was a direct result of too many shots of Jose Cuervo Silver.

“Last night-- Or, rather this morning,” Alec confirms.

“I can’t remember anything from last night,” Magnus admits.

Alec’s smile is easier, warmer, as he laughs. “I figured. Your friends-- Raggy?-- had to take you home when you refused to leave without another shot. You promised to call,” Alec murmurs slyly and Magnus closes his eyes.

He can just imagine what he said to Alec last night. He only called Ragnor by that abhorrent moniker when he was absolutely shitfaced. He hopes fervently that he didn't make an ass out of himself. Luckily, Alec doesn't look like he's yearning for an exit so Magnus stays put.

“Well, what luck of fate that we both decided to get breakfast here,” Magnus says brightly. He steps back as Alec moves out of the booth.

Magnus is tall but Alec is a goddamn giraffe it seems and Magnus has to tilt his head up, just a little, to meet his eyes.

Alec turns so that his breakfast companions can only see his back before murmuring, “And if you told me that you always get breakfast here after a night out?”

Magnus swallows, stepping closer to Alec. “You were hoping to run into me?”

Alec grins, biting his lip and successfully distracting Magnus for a second before he starts to speak again. “I mean, yeah. It’s not every guy that can dance like you do while simultaneously reciting medieval French limericks in the native language.”

“You know French?” Magnus takes a chance and runs a finger down Alec’s chest before resting his hand against his side. Alec doesn’t move away from the touch. Instead, Magnus swears he hears Alec’s breath catch.

“I particularly enjoyed the one about ham,” Alec says, devilishly smiling.

Magnus closes his eyes and lets his head fall to Alec’s shoulder. He groans. “Oh, God, that’s one of the worst ones,” he says plaintively.

“It certainly left an impression,” Alec replies.

Magnus lifts his head and stares at Alec for a moment. Alec returns his look with one of his own. The air feels charged and everything else falls away. It’s a dreadfully busy campus diner. There isn’t a spare seat in the house, the chatter is a dull roar and there’s constant shuffling and clanging of utensils.

Magnus doesn’t hear any of it. His attention is caught on Alec-- his smile, the warmth in his eyes that shouldn’t be there for a mere stranger, the way his blush hasn’t quite died down even after several minutes of conversation.

He takes a minute and something settles in his chest. He takes a breath.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast, darling? I promise I’m sober,” he teases. He refuses to acknowledge just how much he’s hanging onto Alec’s answer.

He doesn’t leave Magnus waiting.

“Yes,” Alec says simply. “I’m a little hungover and they have the best pancakes in the city.”

“Chocolate chip,” Magnus adds, agreeing.

Alec’s face lights up. “Chocolate chip,” he repeats softly.

Alec doesn’t let go of Magnus’s hand as they nab a small table by the door just as the waitress finishes clearing it. Magnus catches Catarina’s eye and shrugs. Everyone turns and mockingly glares at him but he just grins and waves back, unrepentant.

There was no way he was throwing away this chance.

The two of them stay at the diner until the sun starts to sink low in the sky. Hours have passed. Both of their respective tables had left ages ago with obnoxious goodbyes and Alec and Magnus have just been sitting at the table by the window, talking.

They talk about classes and Alec’s position as captain of the rugby team and Magnus’s role as editor of the school newspaper.

They talk about their travels and obscure French novels and hypothetical scenarios.

They hold hands more often than they don’t and share knowing smiles when one of them nudges the other with a foot.

It’s the best breakfast Magnus can remember having. He knows there’ll be hell to pay when he gets back to his dorm but he doesn’t care. 

He can’t, not when he knows with everything he is that his life’s just changed irrevocably. He has a delightful, bubbling feeling that it's for the better.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr @carmenlire!


End file.
